


Blank Page

by EspadaIV



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Drinking, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-08 13:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspadaIV/pseuds/EspadaIV
Summary: "I wonder when you stopped caring about me?" Ginny asked. Hermione answered. For the both of these young women, it's a different blank page. It's not enough for Ginny. It won't ever be enough.





	Blank Page

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. IN SHORT, I don't own, don't sue.
> 
> I finally recovered my HP fics from my HDD that died years ago. Posted on LJ long time ago. I believe this was written after Half-Blood Prince came out. 2005-ish... maybe 2004... Scrubbed and spit-shined. 
> 
> Title comes from Smashing Pumpkin's song Blank Page. I was in an incredibly dark place when I wrote this. Dealing with multiple things.

The sun-kissed, freckled hand shook as she dipped the quill into the ink pot. She removed the feather and let the first drop fall onto the page. The young woman held her breath and waited.

 

"Ginny?"

 

She let the quill fall from her fingertips and turned her head towards the voice. It was Hermione.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I was wondering if you were hungry," she said as she came into the room. "You've been sitting there for hours looking at that Muggle notebook."

 

Suddenly, Ginny jerked out of her dream state and in her hand, she held a Muggle pen. In front of her, on the table, was in fact, a Muggle notebook. The cover had been flipped opened and the page waiting for— "It's not a blank page. I need a blank page. This page is already—"

 

Hermione wrapped her arms around the small redhead that was crying and babbling about blank pages. She let her hand stroke the firey colored locks of hair. Hermione sat for hours rocking the young woman in her arms, trying to soothe her.

 

"Ginny, it's okay. This is a different kind of blank page."

 

"I don't want it."

 

* * *

 

Hermione had been taking care of Ginny for three months when she ran into Draco Malfoy. He stared at Ginny who sat looking blankly at her plate of untouched food. Hermione gave him a forced smile. She paid the bill and quickly left the restaurant with her charge. It was the same whenever she took Ginny out in public. People would stare at the youngest Weasley with looks of pity. When Hermione met old schoolmates, she would quickly drag Ginny from sight.

 

Ron had brought Ginny to Hermione's house one summer night. Ginny lay passed out in his arms. The carrot-topped man said nothing as he carried the sleeping young woman to the guestroom. He deposited her onto the bed, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and closing the door. He returned to the front hall of the tiny house and cleared his throat. "Mum and Dad, they don't want her at The Burrow. She keeps waking up and screaming."

 

"What does she scream?"

 

"Something about pages," he said. "She hasn't been right since her second year. The diary business—"

 

Hermione nodded, "I know."

 

"We got her drunk. If she's drunk, she doesn't wake up and scream."

 

"I'll take care of her."

 

* * *

 

Ginny stayed in her bed for days. She felt half-dead. She was content just to stay there and fade away into nothing. She was not tired, just mourning. She had been this way for months. Ever since Voldemort had died, she had lost a piece of her soul.

 

She had only been eleven years old when she found her comfort in a diary that held a homicidal sixteen-year-old. It had almost killed her. She poured herself into a diary and—She couldn't think of this.

 

The moment Voldemort died, Ginny started screaming. The only person who seemed to understand her was dead.

 

* * *

 

Hermione had gotten Ginny drunk to the point where she would talk. They would curl up on the couch, together with the fire roaring in the fireplace. Rain would tap against the glass of the bay window. A bottle of wine would sit on the coffee table.

 

It was a night like such that Ginny had told Hermione everything; about the diary, Tom Riddle, the obsession, what she felt when Voldemort died, and how she felt now. Hermione nodded and said that Ginny would heal in time.

 

After that, Ginny had kissed Hermione.

 

* * *

 

"Hermione?"

 

"Yes, Ginny?"

 

"Teach me how to drive," she said, smiling. "I also want to go to the United States."

 

"You want to drive? Why?"

 

"I want to stop at stop signs and drive to state lines. I want to look at beautiful things."

 

"I'll ask for a vacation."

 

"I want to stop."

 

* * *

 

The women walked hand in hand to the stationary store. Ginny dragged Hermione into the building and promptly began to search for a diary. When she had found a black leather covered book with blank pages, Ginny smiled.

 

"Look," she said, holding the book up so Hermione could see.

 

"I was thinking something a little bit more—"

 

"Oh, Hermione, please?" Ginny begged. "It's Muggle; no harm can come from it."

 

* * *

 

Ginny dipped her quill into the ink pot. She brought it up so that the ink would drop onto the page. The inky drop fell onto the page and stayed on the page. Her eyes began filling up with tears.

 

"He's gone. It's broken."

 

Hermione immediately bolted from her position on the couch to comfort Ginny. Many nights since she had bought the Muggle imitation of Tom Riddle's diary, she had rocked Ginny to sleep, pressing feather-light kisses all over her face.

 

"It's okay."

 

 

While Ginny slept, Hermione peeled the cover of the diary back. She flipped through the pages, not surprised to see the black dots on every page. After seeing the whole book had pages filled with ink spots, she returned the book to the dining table. She sighed and buried her hands in her hair. She had no clue what it was going to take to help the redhead.

 

* * *

 

"Malfoy?"

 

A head peeked around the corner of a bookcase. "Granger?"

 

"I need your help. Here," she said, as a notebook flew at him. "I need you to charm this to respond."

 

"Respond how?" Draco said as he caught the book.

 

"Like Riddle's diary."

 

* * *

 

"Hermione?"

 

"Hmmm?"

 

"I never meant to say anything to him. I never meant to hurt anyone. He told me I was not alone."

 

"Everyone makes mistakes, Ginny. Go to sleep."

 

Ginny did her best to suppress the sob that she made, "G'night Hermione."

 

Hermione waited until she was sure that the woman beside her was asleep before rolling over on her side. She watched Ginny's chest rise and fall. She let her fingers ghost over the flesh, feeling the soft curves.

 

* * *

 

"What do you mean like Riddle's diary?"

 

"Do you think I'm stupid?" She cried, "I know about Riddle's diary!"

 

"I can't make this respond like that diary!" He shouted, holding the notebook up in his hand.

 

"Why not? I need this to help Ginny."

 

Draco scowled at her request, "It's Dark Magic, and I'm not going to reenter that world."

 

* * *

 

It was raining and Ginny stood outside when Hermione arrived home from work. She heard the car turn into the driveway. Her long red hair was plastered to her face and back, her arms outstretched, palms faced skyward. She kept her back to the car.

 

The other woman watched from her car through the windshield and rain at the redhead standing in her yard wearing white pants and a blue t-shirt. Hermione looked at the sky and knew that the storm was not going to lessen. She opened her door and quickly exited the vehicle. Hermione ran up the steps and into the house before she could get soaked. She entered the hall, removed her shoes, and walked into the living room.

 

Ginny entered the house a moment later. She padded barefoot into the kitchen where the brunette stood sorting through the day's mail.

 

"Harry called, and so did Ron," Ginny whispered, while water dripped off her body and clothes. "Malfoy dropped off a notebook while you were at work."

 

"Okay."

 

"I'm feeling better today."

 

Hermione was not paying attention. Her eyes fixed more on the letter that Draco had left with the notebook. "That's good," she mumbled.

 

"There's also a leak in the roof."

 

* * *

 

Ginny that night lay awake beside Hermione. She stared at Hermione's sleeping face. "I wonder when you stopped caring about me?"

 

She was stunned when Hermione spoke. She started and fell off the bed. Hermione was sitting up on her elbow looking down at Ginny.

 

"When a blank page became an obsession."

 

Hermione woke the next morning to an empty bed. She quickly searched the flat. It was empty. She pulled on her clothes and went to make coffee. Ginny would come back, she always did.

 

* * *

 

Ron carried Ginny again while Harry knocked on the door this time. Hermione opened the door to allow them in the house.

 

Hermione produced her wand, pointed it at Ginny, and whispered, "Ennervate."

 

The redhead female instantly started screaming. Hermione motioned Ron to lower her to the ground. Hermione gathered Ginny into her arms and began to press kisses over her face. She forgot Ron and Harry were standing beside her. She rocked Ginny until the crying and screaming subsided.

 

"I'm sorry, Ginny."

 

* * *

 

Ron waited in the kitchen with Harry while Hermione put Ginny into bed. The woman came into the kitchen again and set about making tea. Ron stared at her with wide eyes wanting to say something about the scene in the hallway.

 

"So, Hermione," Ron said, clearly uncomfortable with talking about these types of things. "Are you—you know?"

 

"You brought her here Ron," Hermione said as she filled the kettle with water. "I didn't plan this and no, I'm not that way."

 

Harry sighed, "That's not what he means Hermione."

 

"What does he mean then Harry? Ginny is his sister," she pointed an accusing finger at Ron. "He asked me. It's not my fault—"

 

"I never said it was your fault, Hermione," Ron protested. "Ginny has said that she is loads happier with you!"

 

* * *

 

After lunch, Hermione set the thick notebook in front of Ginny. Ginny looked down at the book and then at the other woman. Hermione smiled and handed her a pen.

 

"Why?"

 

"They say a blank page gets rid of all the rage. Hopefully, next month, we can get you a plant."

 

"Why a plant?"

 

"Because you need something to take care of," Hermione said, still smiling.

 

"I have you to take care of," Ginny whispered.

 

Hermione nodded, lifted Ginny's hand from the table, and pressed a kiss into the palm. The two women sat in silence.

 

* * *

 

She dipped the quill into the ink pot, her hand shaking. She removed the quill and let the first drop fall onto the page. She held her breath and waited.

 

"Ginny?"

 

She let the quill fall from her fingertips and turned her head towards the voice. It was Hermione.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I was wondering if you were hungry," she said as she came into the room. "You've been sitting there for hours looking at that Muggle notebook."

 

Suddenly Ginny jerked out of her dream state and in her hand, she held a Muggle pen. In front of her on the table was a Muggle notebook. The cover had been flipped opened and the page waiting for— "It's not a blank page. I need a blank page. This page is already—The lines!"

 

Hermione wrapped her arms around the small redhead that was crying and babbling about blank pages. She let her hand stroke the firey colored locks of hair. She sat for hours rocking the young woman in her arms, once more, trying to soothe her to silence.

 

"Ginny, it's okay. This is a different kind of blank page."

 

"I want the old blank pages. I want Tom back! I want my soul! I don't want pages that are convenient for you!" Ginny screamed.

 

"Tom's dead, Ginny. He died a long time ago."

 

"I don't want to be here, then."

 

* * *

 

Hermione arrived home from work at the usual time. The house was dark and quiet. She let herself in the front door. She moved through the house flicking lights on and started heating water for a pot of tea.

 

She left the water to heat and made her way to the bedroom. She flipped the light switch and saw Ginny, lying on the bed. The blanket covered her whole body. There was something wrong with the scene though, Hermione thought. Something is missing.

 

"Ginevra? Ginny," Hermione called softly. "Are you awake?"

 

Hermione's eyes focused on the young woman's chest. It did not move. She let her gaze travel over the body and saw Ginny's arm. Her wrist lay in a small pool of blood. Her hand flew up to her mouth. She clamped down to stop the scream that threatened to come out. Tears welled up in her eyes and she slid down the wall near the door.

 

* * *

 

Ginny sat on the bed and watched Hermione cry. She watched the cell phone that the brunette always carried, ring. Hermione answered it and started sobbing. Ginny sighed as she watched the person she cared about fall apart.

 

Ginny wanted to comfort Hermione. She tried to slide her arms around those shaking shoulders and tell her it was okay. Hermione was crying harder now and shouting into the phone.

 

"I love her. I love her, and she's gone!"

 

A year later...

 

Hermione sat at the cafe that was across the street from her new home. She had moved after Ginny's death. She moved into the city from her house in the suburbs of London.

 

No one here could stand out in the rain in her yard and enjoy it. It was where Hermione did not have bloodstains on her bed. It was where she did not have to pick the pieces up for anyone. She did not have to take care of someone who had been obsessed with a blank page.

 

"Are you busy?"

 

Hermione jumped, broken from her thoughts. She looked up at Draco Malfoy, "What?"

 

Draco shook his head and pulled out the chair that sat opposite from Hermione. "I asked, are you busy?"

 

"I was thinking."

 

"It's not your fault."

 

"I know."

 

Draco ordered his coffee from the waiter and turned back to Hermione. "I'm sorry--"

 

"It was only a blank page. How can a piece of paper drive her to kill herself?"

 

"I told you in my letter, Granger. I didn't do a thing to that book." Draco said as he took his coffee from the waiter. "I didn't want to."

 

"Why not?" She asked, staring at the sky.

 

"When you charm something to respond, like Riddle's diary, you lose your soul. I think Draco without a soul would be the next thing Potter would have to save."


End file.
